Seasons of the heart
by xdivergentmockingjayx
Summary: Katniss has just met Peeta when she decides she can't have any more to do with him, however, the odds are not in her favour.
1. Chapter 1

After a successful day in the woods, I make my way towards the Hob to trade my goods. Two fat turkeys, a couple of rabbits and a squirrel along with a bagful of strawberries. I go to Greasy Sae first hoping she'll take the rabbits and the squirrel of my hands. She prefers deer, but I know she won't turn her nose up at fresh meat. When I reach her stall, she is peeling a small pile of roots.

'The usual?', she asks, glancing at me. I visit her so frequently that she's in the habit of memorising the soups I favour. In answer, I hoist the rabbits and squirrel up onto the countertop. She scrapes the roots to one side and examines what I have to offer. 'Good haul,' she comments, turning the rabbit over in her hands. 'I'll take rabbits'. She sets it down and gives me a handful of coins.

I turn to leave, pocketing the money and collide full-force with another person.

'Sorry', I mutter, without looking up. I can feel the heat rising into my cheeks.

'That's alright. It was my fault really, I wasn't watching where I was going.'

I glance at the stranger. The first thing I notice is how out of place his blonde hair and blue eyes are here in the Seam. Merchant, I assume.

Feeling embarrassed, I turn in the other direction and start to walk. I stop to buy a bar of soap and some yarn from Senna, a young woman who runs a small stall near Ripper's butchery. The stall next door offers a variety of different coloured fabrics. I run my hand along a velvety, sky blue fabric. Prim would like it. I ponder making her a dress from it that would exactly match her eyes. The price, however, banishes the thought from my mind.

I pass the Bakery on the way back to my house. The smell of freshly baked bread wafts out and makes my mouth start to water. I take a step closer, and before I can stop myself I have pushed open the door and stepped inside the Bakery.

Rows of delicious looking cakes, pastries and breads line the carefully painted walls. If I crane my neck, I can see into the kitchen at the front where a boy stands, washing his dough covered hands. A boy with blonde hair and blue eyes..

I spin around, grab the handle of the door, ready to make a quick escape-

'Hi'.

I cringe, but turn around to face the boy, who has come out of the kitchen and is now standing at the counter. I wonder if he remembers me from earlier. I'm hoping he doesn't. He watches me closely for a minute, which makes me feel awkward, like an object at a museum. 'I'm sorry about earlier,' I blurt out to fill the silence.

His lips twitch upwards into a smile. 'Don't worry about it', he answers, untying the apron from around his waist. He steps closer to me and offers his hand. 'I'm Peeta, by the way. It's nice to meet you.'

I accept his handshake and smile tentatively in return. 'Katniss.'

I can't stop my eyes flickering to the decadent treats that surround me, and he notices. 'See anything you like?'

I shake my head quickly. 'No. I mean-yes, everything looks wonderful, but I'm just looking.' His smile widens. 'Choose something. It's on me.'

'No, thank you', I say, curtly. His smile fades a little.

I wonder if I've offended him. 'No problem', he says, nonetheless. He has the same pleasant expression on his face but his blue eyes are staring at me with an intensity that feels unnerving.

'I..uh..', I stumble for words that don't seem to come to me. 'Its getting late. I'd better go.' He frowns slightly, glancing at his watch. 'It's only 4:00', he points out.

'Well.. life's busy. I've got a lot to do today.' I say lamely. In truth, I have absolutely nothing. He nods, although I'm almost positive he knows I'm lying.

'Sure. I'll see you around, Katniss.'

'Yeah', I reply, quietly, stepping outside into the cool afternoon air.

I find myself wondering when I will see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time I see him, Autumn has arrived, turning the leaves of the trees to orange and adding a chill to the air. Autumn has never been my favourite season. It's more difficult to hunt in Autumn, as the layer of dried leaves littering the ground make it almost impossible to take quiet steps. Nevertheless, my family still needs to be fed, so reluctantly, I head into the woods.

As I retrieve my bow and arrow from the hollow log where I stow it, I glance around for any sign of game. Apart from a few birds which I take down easily, there is nothing. I stuff the birds into my forage bag, feeling resigned. Already, I can tell today won't be a good hunting day. The sound of leaves crunching hits my ears and I spin around immediately, bow at the ready.

It's Peeta, standing still behind a sprawling willow as if he is hiding from something. When he realizes that I have seen him, he steps hesitantly from behind the tree and comes over to me, looking ashamed.

'Were you spying on me?', I demand as he stops a few feet away from me, twisting his hands nervously.

He shakes his head. 'I wasn't spying on you. I just..I saw you coming into the woods and I was curious.'

I frown at him. 'Are you crazy? You could get yourself killed!' I don't know why I am telling him this. It's his life and he can do what he wants with it. But I feel strangely anxious nonetheless.

'I could say the same thing about you', he points out, nodding in my direction. 'How is me being here any different from you?'

His eyes fasten on my bow which I am still gripping with a slackened hand. He raises his eyebrows.

'And it looks like you're breaking the rules far more than me', he says, folding his arms across his chest with a manner of finality. For a moment, I don't answer. It doesn't make sense to me. Why would a merchant who has enough to eat come to the woods and risk being caught?

'You're right', I say finally. 'I am breaking the law. But the difference between you and I is that I have to. I'm not doing this because I'm bored or because I enjoy the danger. I'm keeping my family alive.'

He just stares. 'Besides, you're a merchant, aren't you? Why would you risk coming here?', I ask, frowning. It annoys me, somehow, that he is putting himself in danger for no good reason.

He sighs quietly. 'I'm sorry I frightened you. It's just that I saw you going under the fence and I wanted to know where you were going, I stayed behind the tree because I didn't want to scare you.'

I nod. 'It's okay. Just-don't do that again. I place my hand over my racing heart. 'You scared the life out of me.'

He shakes his head. 'I won't', he promises earnestly. 'I'm not a stalker. Honestly'

I laugh. 'Don't worry. I believe you.' Out of habit, my eyes flicker to the sun, and I guess by its position it must be roughly two. I have only a few hours of hunting time left before it gets dark. Peeta follows my gaze and seems to guess what I am thinking.

'Well, don't let me keep you', he says, focusing his attention back to me. 'I'll see you around, then, Katniss'.

I grin. 'I guess so.'

With a last glance back at me, he turns and walks back through the woods.

I watch his figure growing smaller and smaller in the distance, thinking. As a general rule, I disliked merchants. Not because of their personalities, but simply because of the advantages they have over us in the Seam. It's hard not to feel resentful when you have an empty stomach on a regular basis while the majority of merchants don't have to worry about food.

But with Peeta..I felt different. I'd only just met him, and already, I liked him. But I couldn't let that happen. I knew that friendship between a Merchant and a Seam could never lead to anything good. So I must put an end to it. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I will tell him.


	3. Chapter 3

I have found that when you try to avoid someone, you end up bumping into them sooner than if you are not trying to avoid them. Not that I'm trying to avoid Peeta exactly, but rather the conversion I have to have with him. That I don't want to have with him.

By chance, I run into him as I am walking to my house after trading at the Hob.

'Hi', he says, with a grin. 'How are you today?'

'I'm fine', I answer simply. The smile fades off his face and I wonder if that sounded rude. 'I wanted to talk to you', I say trying to keep my voice level.

'Sure', he says, looking surprised. 'I have to get back to work soon, but you can come to the Bakery around five if you want'.

I nod. 'I will. Thank you' Then I walk away in the opposite direction. When I'm far enough away that I think he won't see me, I peek over my shoulder. Peeta hasn't moved, and he's frowning. I watch him for a second longer before turning away.

All I can think about in the hours before I have to meet Peeta at the Bakery is what I'm going to say. _Hey, Peeta, you seem really nice and everything but we can't be friends. _Even in my own head it sounds stupid. I know that it would sound even worse said aloud.

My distractedness isn't lost on my mother and Prim either. My mother looks quietly concerned while Prim asks me constantly what's wrong.

'I'm okay', I tell her the first time she asks. 'Don't worry about me.' I must be getting better at lying because she looks convinced, although not quite satisfied.

The second time she asks I bend down to her level. 'Prim. I'm fine. Stop worrying'. I kiss her forehead before standing up. 'Now go get ready for dinner, Little Duck'. My mother watches our exchange from the stove, where she is making a stew of the rabbits and greens I brought home today. She waits until Prim has walked away before coming up to me, looking troubled.

'Katniss, what's wrong?' she asks me, scanning my face for any telltale signs of what's bothering me, but I keep my face blank.

I am about to brush her concern of with my standard 'I'm fine', but something in her expression stops me.

'You haven't been yourself today', she continues, watching my reaction. 'I don't want you to be upset.' She looks at me, eyes wide in earnest and I sigh quietly. 'I'm not.'

I emphasize the word 'not' to try and convey that it's the truth but her expression is skeptical, and I know she doesn't believe me.

I start to tell her not to worry, as I did with Prim, when she interrupts me.

'I'm your mother. It's my job to worry.'

She steps closer to me. 'We don't have to talk about it. Just know that I'm always here for you.' She hugs me before I can reply, and it feels foreign. I can't remember the last time someone hugged me, to tell the truth. It's been quite a while. At first, I stand still; tolerating the hug because I know it will make her feel better. But just as she is about to release me, I hug her back. Just for a second.

The rest of the time seems to fly by, and I before I know it, the old clock on our mantelpiece reads 4:45 meaning I have to make my way to the Bakery. I tell my mother and Prim I'm going for a walk and to start dinner without me. It's not strictly a lie; getting to the bakery and back does involve a fair amount of walking, although I feel guilty for not telling the full truth.

On the short journey to the bakery, I find myself coming up with a million excuses as to why I shouldn't do this. _Its not like we're even friends; we just met. If I just turn around and go back home now, he'll forget all about me. _I've almost convinced myself of the latter when I remember that Peeta is expecting me and if I don't show up, he'll probably just come looking for me anyway, which I don't want.

Feeling resigned, I rap on the Bakery's door and wait for Peeta to answer. Nothing. I knock again, a little louder. Still nothing. I'm about to give up and just go home when I hear a faint 'Come in' from the other side of the door. Confused, I push it open and scan the room for Peeta.

I don't see him at first. He is slumped over in a chair near the kitchen, his face masked by shadow. Tentatively, I step closer, debating whether to speak or wait for him to talk first. I decide I'll start, as he does not appear about to say anything.

I take a deep breath, although I have no idea what words are going to come out of my mouth. But, when he lifts his head into a patch of weak sunlight streaming in from the window, my mouth goes dry.

Covering his pale skin are dark bruises and his left eye has swollen shut.

'Who did this to you?', I whisper, running to him and kneeling to examine his injuries. He just shakes his head a fraction then winces. 'Tell me', I insist, expecting him to say it was a peacekeeper or that he got into a fight or something of the sort.

He looks in dilemma for a moment, as though contemplating whether or not to tell me. He swallows before speaking in a faint, pained voice.

'My mother.'


End file.
